


The Start

by green_zombie



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_zombie/pseuds/green_zombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1 smut. For no reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Start

**Author's Note:**

> Page breaks indicate a perspective change between the girls.

\\\

If you asked her when it happened, Laura wouldn’t really be able to _say_ when.

The tension between them—that had always been there. And maybe it was the catalyst for everything else. All the things that tumbled out after. The way her eyes started to linger on Carmilla, imperceptibly at first, before becoming obnoxiously obvious.

That was _her_ fault. She gawked when she should’ve glanced.

That’s what happens when you like what you see. Who you thought you _wouldn’t_ like. The girl least likely to be your type if you had one.

She was almost ashamed to be so transfixed by the whole thing.

She absolutely hated being caught. It made her face go hot. And Carmilla’s eyes would become like two burning magnets pulling at hers, tugging her off in the same way sirens tugged at sailors; alluring; wicked. But also—she was smug about it. That was, for Laura, the least bearable part.

Now _—how_ it happened, she could more accurately answer. It was a moment just like the kind described, where she’d been caught glaring, fixated, over the skin between Carmilla’s skirt and the start of her knee-highs. Carmilla smirked; red lipstick bright.

Instant urge to throw up mixed with tense, uncomfortable arousal.

_Gulp._

Escape route—bathroom.

Laura pressed her back against the door; heart beating rapidly. She mused over the bathtub for a minute, just breathing and thinking ( _hot or cold?_ ); twisting the knob away from the center.

She watched the water fall out of the nozzle in twenty or so thin rivulets and decided—turning the knob almost completely toward the H because she deserved this. And _to Hogwarts_ with her insufferable roommate.

She took her time washing her body. First her hair and face, then, in time, lathering the rest of herself. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of _her_ as she stood under the stream; idly moving soap up and down her sternum.

_But._

It _was_ the easiest way to take care of this.

She bit her lip, giving in without further hassle. Memories of Carmilla started flashing in her head and Laura succumbed to them; reveling in each new facet she remembered. She let all the lust she’d bottled in out as she thought of her. Sometimes she could see her lashes so clearly. Sometimes the line of her frowning mouth. A lot of times she swore she was breathing in the scent of her hair and perfume.

 _How is her face so pretty? Brooding, contemplating,_ sassing _me_.

_Her every expression is like a test in restraint and I hate admitting it._

_How do her eyes always seem to see me so—wholly and so deeply?_

Laura hoped she at least didn’t know about _this_. The idea nearly made her hand quit (just between her breasts) but then—how could she know? Laura was quiet. She caught every moan in her throat.

( _And if Carmilla_ did _find out she’d probably act all gross and_ proud _about it instead of being mortified like a regular person_ ).

Laura huffed even as her palm slid down her stomach. She was already a heady mess upon reaching her center; rubbing herself gently and thinking _why does the pale stretch of skin between her socks and her skirt have to be so—tempting all the time?_

_Ughhh—I’m sure she does everything on purpose. Everything she does is to get at me._

If she closed her eyes tight enough, she could almost feel the cool beads in Carmilla’s bracelets roll over the skin of her mound instead of her own, underwhelming wrist. It was almost too vivid. She could almost hear Carmilla’s lilting voice. Like it was pressed to her ear.

“Don’t touch that, Laura—it’s mine.”

A shiver ran down her spine.

She nearly pulled her hand away (it twitched). Then looked around, embarrassed, before immediately feeling dumb. She was actually in private for once.

No roommate. No live audience.

Just the pulsing centered in her clitoris.

She tried to relax, drawing up the same scenario; sighing as she swirled the pads of her fingers in a lazy infinity sign between her labia; playing with the wetness she found.

“Don’t touch that, Laura—it’s mine.”

Her hips jerked onto her middle finger; dragging it slowly in and out as she thought of the words, in Carm’s voice.

_How does my own subjective idea of her still manage to fluster me?_

_And is that even what people say during sex?_

_Well—it’s what I_ think _she’d say. If she were here. And wanted me._

_If she were here and wanted me, it’s probably what she would—_

She moved a little; feeling the tepid water part all the way up to her shins—

Her eyes popped open.

She was in a _bath_ now.

_Oh, gross!_

There goes that. She turned the knob to off; cutting the steady stream off.

_Foiled again. For like the third time this week._

She was unsatisfied; dizzily clearheaded in the wake of her lusty high, and add to that, actively disgusted.

_Ughhhhhh!_

She looked back at the tub as she climbed out—what was lodged in the drain.

_Ewwwww!_

_“Carmilla!_ God—you! _Ugh_!”

\\\

“What are you an _animal_!?”

Carmilla quirked a brow up at the creampuff—not altogether happy about being woken up from an impromptu nap atop a small pile of open tomes in her bed. Especially given where her dreams had started to take her.

“I already heard a bunch of your rant from when you were doing it in _there_ to yourself,” she murmured, “In my _sleep_ , I heard it. So save your breath for once, cupcake.”

Muscles clenched in Laura’s jaw and Carmilla was _far_ more awake than before, rolling over onto her stomach to look up at Laura with her face mounted on both fists. She smiled just to fuck with her.

The girl’s cheeks puffed up, before she launched into it:

“You are the single most inconsiderate—”

_Here we go. The show._

“—Person I’ve _ever met_. Living with a poorly trained circus tiger would be less disastrous than living with _you_.”

Laura’s wet hair was much darker than usual, and clung to her fresh, glowing face. She smelled strongly of her own shampoo, and her body wash. It was all—vanilla and orange blossom. So much. Carmilla inhaled just to taste it again; like the first few weeks of summer. She started to smile sincerely. She wondered if Laura could tell the difference.

“What the frilly heck are you smiling about!? Why are you so infuriating? Look at me! I’ve literally never _been_ this angry. And I’m a feminist in her freshman year of college so you can imagine what a _feat_ that is.”

A lot of the words, Carmilla didn’t hear because Laura’s face was prettily scrunched up and her lips were pulled together in a defiant pout at her pauses. Maybe she expected her to say something at those.

_Huh._

“Do you have any _idea_ how little time I have to shower before I’m up to my knees in murky water because the drain is clogged _again_? Because _you_ left a small _afro_ behind as is your daily irrational ritual. I swear, you’re so— _gross_. And uncaring. A total slob—and just— _God_.”

The girl’s little body shook. Carmilla looked it up and down; vaguely registering the urge to pounce. Centuries ago Laura would’ve been prey long-devoured.

Maybe time was wise after all.

She purred, “I love when you talk to me that way, babe. Really turns me on.”

Her eyes trailed up Laura’s frame a second time; stopping happily at her slack-jawed mouth.

The girl’s reaction was predictable and no less satisfying. The soft pucker of her lips as she tried to form a comeback. The way her eyes flit away from, then right back to Carmilla’s face. Her racing pulse. Her sexy annoyance with her.

Carmilla licked her lips. She was suddenly very in the mood to play with dinner.

It had even prepared itself.

\\\

_Um._

Laura cleared her throat and lost her train of thought.

The warmth of the shower was finally starting to leave her body.

She realized she wasn’t at all dry yet. In her rush to yell at Carmilla she’d loosely tied her robe around herself before marching out of the bathroom—and that’s it.

No thought process.

No _underwear_.

She stood in front of the girl, starting to shiver; clad in her black and yellow Hufflepuff robe and nothing else. That hadn’t really registered until Carmilla’s leering, and smiling, and derisive flirting.

And _now._

Her shoulders trembled a little. She was wet, cold—but an undeniable trail of heat crawled up her neck and to her cheeks.

Carmilla’s keen stare caught it, and she hummed. Like she was amused.

“You’re blushing.”

Laura scoffed.

“Because I’m flustered. Because you’re—flustering me.”

Awful choice of words. She tried to stand up straight, even as everything in her body told her to slump into a fetal in her bed; ignoring Carmilla ‘till she inevitably grew bored and stalked off to commit whatever unspeakable evil.

_Play possum, Laura._

She really almost did, but—her _stubbornness_.

“I’m _flustering_ you?”

Carmilla sounded much too proud.

“You’re being annoying,” she swallowed, “And it’s riling me up.”

She almost buried her head in her hands at the sight of Carmilla’s brow peaking up. Smug.

_What’s wrong with me?_

“Oh,” Carmilla’s voice was like honey (Laura choked on its sweetness), “ _Am_ I? I’m riling you up?”

“Shut up.”

The words barely made it past her teeth. Beads of water trickled down her spine and she felt them just as she felt her own anger trickle _up_. She wasn’t sure quite what it was about Carmilla—the way biting remarks slipped out of her pretty red mouth…Laura wasn’t above reacting to them. Even though she knew her reaction was the point.

She just couldn’t back down from this particular challenge every time she—presented herself.

“You don’t always have to change in the bathroom, you know,” Carmilla willfully ignored her statement (plus demeanor, glare), continuing; her unaffected mannerisms punctuating her points, “You can take your time drying off in your cute little robe more often. I don’t mind it at all.”

Laura blushed, and folded both arms over herself. She tried to affect cool indifference (meanwhile feeling like she was very much falling apart from all sides).

“Well you’re practically a nudist yourself so—”

“ _You_ don’t seem to mind it at all.”

It was delivered with a smile, and the faux-innocent batting of dark lashes. Laura felt her anger spiking again and tore a hand across her hair; slicking it back and getting droplets everywhere.

“Shut _up_ Carmilla.”

Carmilla pouted at her, and kept on, “I’m sorry your private-time got interrupted earlier. And not just ‘cause I was looking forward to you being nicer for thirty minutes—”

Laura gaped; her heart in her throat.

Carmilla’s eyes bore brightly into hers, “— _Really,_ because I love hearing you finish. I could see it all so clearly in my dream.”

Laura’s face flushed hot.

“I said _shut up_ , Carm.”

There was a hitch in Carmilla’s breathing at her tone and her eyes closed briefly before they met hers again, “Sorry creampuff—I’m the type of girl you have to shut up for yourself.”

In a single, heart-pulsing flash—very nearly naked and vulnerable—Laura was on top of her in her bed. She crashed their mouths together, grabbing Carmilla urgently by the hips.

\\\

Carmilla gasped at their lips’ first connection. Teasing aside, she hadn’t been expecting this. She hadn’t been expecting the girl to hold her so firmly or kiss so insistently.

Her hands clung to Laura’s face as their lips flexed against each other’s in fevered flashes. The girl might be able to feel her smile.

It was fine.

To attain this proximity with her was worth the rare vulnerability.

It had been a long time since she’d let herself be the one that was kissed. Since someone’s kiss was even something to pine for.

The world slowly tilted; blurring. Laura’s wet hair slid against their cheeks as her tongue slipped into Carmilla’s mouth, stroking over each crevice and laying a claim with the slick muscle.

Carmilla tugged at the girl’s robe, and closed her teeth on her bottom lip; feeling suddenly violent as she could hear Laura’s pulse throbbing in her own head.

There was a soft gasp and muttered, “God, your teeth are sharp.”

She couldn’t help moaning, though she’d tried to keep it buried somewhere inside her dead lungs. It was a catalyst for them both. She was thinking: fuck it. And Laura might’ve had a similar, slightly more PG thought.

With newfound recklessness they were going at each other; lips and tongues only parting the length of time it took Carmilla to husk out “hold me tighter, please.”

Laura’s robe was all the way open. Carmilla could feel her naked body, pressing hard into her at her request. It had been a bad idea to ask for that.

Her head fell back.

She felt the bare swell of Laura’s breasts. Her trembling stomach.

Laura’s shaking hands grabbed her skirt and rode it up as she pressed herself, heated and wet, to Carmilla’s center.

She watched (mouth hanging open) as Laura moaned lowly and bowed her head, long hair fanning out below her.

Their lips crashed again and opened, tongues stroking against each other. Carmilla’s licked up Laura’s in some possessive display and then she sat up; arm circling over Laura’s waist. She was sitting centered in Carmilla’s lap until Carmilla repositioned her; to straddle her thigh.

They sighed into each other’s mouths, comforted; the promise of solace suddenly certain.

\\\

Something about the way Carmilla pressed a palm against her shoulder and whispered, “slow, slow” made Laura want to do the opposite.

She had taken the reins almost as soon as Carmilla had pressed them together and offered her soft thigh for Laura’s relief.

“Don’t you want to make it last, cutie?”

Laura sharply shook her head.

Her robe pooled somewhere on their dorm-room floor, she ground her naked body, fast, with raging purpose down on the bare strip of skin between the pleats of Carmilla’s black skirt and her slutty school-girl knee highs.

She trembled.

She was already almost coming.

She pressed her breasts into Carmilla’s open, needy mouth because she could no longer kiss her well and Carmilla was still seeking more kissing. Instantly they were sucked at and bitten. She felt blood rush to bruises. It might as well have been her clit in Carmilla’s mouth.

“Carm!”

A new rush of cum slowly leaked out; hot onto Carmilla’s thigh. It wasn’t the first. And Laura was no longer embarrassed.

In fact, it was helping her. She felt it, hot like blood or lava over her labia, hood, and underneath it to her clitoris.

\\\

Grabbing handfuls of Laura’s flexing ass cheeks as the girl rode her, Carmilla pressed her even harder against her thigh. Just to feel Laura’s body tense and see her face go red.

Carmilla had often wondered what the girl would look like as she came—

Now she had an answer: helpless, her brows furrowed, her full mouth a perfect circle.

“God! Carm! _Carmilla_!”

And screaming her name.

\\\

 _That_ was the start of the game.

**Author's Note:**

> I might turn this into a smutty series since I have a few scenes written out. Lmk what you think!


End file.
